


the war to be won

by wakandawinterprincess



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: AU, Aged-Up Character(s), F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Mostly platonic and one sided crush/feelings from Shuri, Pre-Relationship, Really just fluff, She's not a teenager in this one, so don't @ me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 20:17:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14220972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakandawinterprincess/pseuds/wakandawinterprincess
Summary: Set during Infinity War. With the Mad Titan's army looming on the horizon, Shuri's been busy upgrading everyone's tech and sealing off Wakanda's borders. Just when she thinks she's finished, a certain someone comes by for one final upgrade.





	the war to be won

**Author's Note:**

> Age stuff: I'm not interested in having Shuri be a teenager. In this vignette, she's not.
> 
> I got interested in this pairing (platonic and romantic) WAY before the post-credits scene or any details about character's ages came out, but I understand the age squick, so in my works, Shuri will ALWAYS be older. The magic of an AU/the passage of time, y'all.
> 
> As it were, this is very slice of life bit, and there's nothing inappropriate or explicit here. It's more of a character study than anything else.
> 
> If the pairing freaks you out... just don't read further. Thanks!

For the first time in a long time, Shuri was exhausted. Saying the last three hours of her life had been a whirlwind would have been the understatement of the century, but the metaphor was apt — she’d outfitted Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, and Natasha Romanoff with new battle gear, stabilized a badly-injured Vision, and exchanged hasty notes with none other than the infamous (but disarmingly sweet) Dr. Bruce Banner. In the few moments she’d had to breathe in between each task, she’d rattled off commands to the other workers in the lab, ensuring that Wakanda’s security systems were up, their borders’ defenses were ready to go, and their tech systems were ready to face the looming threat ahead.

But now, at long last, her lab had cleared out, and her legs ached from the weight of it all. She knew she had done everything she could, better than was probably required of her. And yet, she couldn’t shake a very stubborn, insidious feeling of dread. A feeling that whatever she’d done somehow wasn’t going to be enough.

Shuri crumpled into a lab chair, finally letting her exhaustion seep into her bones. She closed her eyes, took solace in the few moments of steadiness the darkness brought.

 _This_ , she mused, is what it must have been like for Sergeant Barnes, after he’d come to himself after decades of HYDRA brainwashing. A sheer cognitive overload, a horrifying understanding of what had happened and what was to come — and no way to stop any of it from happening.

She’s never felt so utterly powerless in her life.

Shuri wonders how he got through it at all. Wonders how she will.

At just that moment, she hears firm steps coming towards her lab, followed by the familiar, polite rap of a vibranium arm on the lab’s main doorframe.

Of course, she figures. Just the man on her mind, but also quite possibly the last person she wants to see her… well, see her like this. Tired. Worried. Scared for her brother, for her country — for him.

She opens her eyes and forces herself to put a brave face on. He’s heading into battle, she reasons. He doesn’t need this on his mind.

Once she trusts her facade to not fall away, she turns her chair to face the entrance and calls out — “Come in.”

He enters the room, all decked up in the battle gear she’d prepped for him, months in advance. The navy blue vest, an homage to his WWII outfit. The sniper rifle he so prized, with new upgrades she’d insisted on, slung across his shoulders. The new vibranium arm, similar to but simultaneously a complete departure from his Winter Solider one. Instead of silver, it was now made entirely of the sleek black metal, with delicate gold inserts that were so characteristic of Wakandan royalty. A bit of his past, his present, and his future, for him to take with him wherever he went.

There’s a quip on her tongue about him knowing better than to bring all his firepower into her lab, but she swallows it in an instant when she finally sees his face.

Shuri recognizes the look on his face because she’s seen it in his memories so many times before — he looks battle hardened, and the war has yet to begin. His gray-blue eyes look steely, and he looks as if he wants to put the entire world in a death grip.

She takes him in for another beat before she addresses him, at last —

“Hello, Bucky.”

“Hello, Shuri.” The look on his face as his eyes settle over hers is suddenly inscrutable, but it quickly shifts back to the steeliness she saw before.

“What brings you here, Sergeant?”

“Okoye informed me that you have a small hardware update for the arm you wanted to install.”

“Ah, yes.” she mutters, remembering her brief conversation with the general now, “I have that for you here.”

She’s relieved that she can be of some help, but strangely disappointed that he hadn’t simply come to see her. A ludicrous feeling, she’s aware. But then again, the last few hours seem to have knocked everything in her brain out of whack.

She motions for him to sit down in the chair opposite her, picks up the update she’d finished just hours ago, and grabs her micro-screwdriver before settling back into her chair and wordlessly pulling his metal hand into hers.

Shuri busies herself with the delicate work of installing the hardware into the palm of his vibranium hand, and she can feel him watching the process. She’d quickly discovered in the few months she’d known him that he was absolutely  _fascinated_  by technology, and he took every opportunity to watch and learn what he could.

Still, she feels his eyes shift briefly to her face, and she hopes her face hasn’t yet betrayed how terrified she is of what’s about to go down.

“How are you feeling?” he murmurs, softly enough to ensure he doesn’t break her concentration on her work.

“Fine.” she deflects smoothly. It’s a lie, and they both know it. He’s kind enough not to press her further, though she knows he wants to.

She finishes the last bit of installation and pushes her chair back before standing up. He stands up and waits for her instruction.

She takes a step back and meets his eyes.

“The upgrade interfaces seamlessly with the rest of the arm and all of our communication devices,” she explains. 

““Now, for how it works, hold your hand like so” — she demos the motion quickly for him — “and do this!” she finishes, flicking her hand quickly.

He follows her directions, and sure enough, the upgrade works perfectly. A set of deathly sharp gold claws, modeled after her brother’s, now protract from the top of the black vibranium fingers. He repeats the movement and they retract smoothly into the tips again — a hidden weapon for him to use, should all else fail.

For once, he looks stunned. The claws of the Black Panther are of borderline religious significance in Wakanda. For this weapon to be granted to an outsider, and to  _him_  no less — Shuri knows exactly where his shock is coming from. She won’t tell him that she was the one instrumental in getting it made for him, won’t confess why exactly she did it. Because the reasons for that are far too complicated and grey for her to explain, and as it were, they’ve officially run out of time.

“Thank you.” he says simply.

“Of course. Now it’s time for you to be off.” she replies.

He seems to grapple momentarily with himself, as if he should say something else, but then he nods at her and turns to go.

She watches him leave, and he’s almost gone when she adds—

“Oh, and Bucky?”

He turns back, and she lets her lips quirk — the real first smile she’s had all day.

“I spent a lot of time on that arm. I’d prefer that you brought it and yourself back here without  _too_  much damage.”

He smiles,  _really_  smiles, and when he meets her eyes again she knows he means what he says —

“Of course, Your Highness.”

She crosses her arms over her chest in the Wakandan salute, and he mirrors it in a heartbeat. They drop their arms together.

The act alone brings her confidence back. Her nation is one of warriors. They will not be defeated. And she will be with them, every step of the way.

“Go.  _Win._ ” she commands.

Bucky nods and holds her eyes for a moment longer before he turns once more and leaves.

She watches him before finishing the rest of her thought: 

_Go. Win –  and come back to me._


End file.
